


Hold Me Closer

by Bedalk05



Series: Geralt Deserves Soft Things [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier is Geralt’s Emotional Support Bard, M/M, Pack Family, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bedalk05/pseuds/Bedalk05
Summary: Geralt introduces Jaskier to Ciri before setting off to reunite with Yennefer. Jaskier is coping fine with the impending reunion with Geralt's ex.Studying the cowering figure before him, Jaskier's heart aches. The girl looks nothing like a princess, skin pale and sallow and eyes dull and haunted. Dark shadows under her eyes speak a tale of restless and sleepless nights. Poor girl.**Can be read as a stand alone or as part of a series**
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geralt Deserves Soft Things [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742950
Comments: 48
Kudos: 1254
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	Hold Me Closer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pineapplemoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineapplemoon/gifts).



> Reader request by Pineapplemoon: "I'm curious, do Ciri and Yennefer know about Jask being a shifter? In a weird turn of events, maybe Yen knew literally the whole time and never told Geralt." 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

When Geralt set off to retrieve his Child Surprise Jaskier felt a tangle of pride and terror. Yes, his wolf is showing some A+ character growth by accepting responsibility for the child he impulsively claimed but at the same time he was entering what was essentially enemy territory. 

To make matters worse, despite Jaskier’s begging, cajoling, and bribery (mostly with sex which ALWAYS worked in the past), Geralt refused to allow Jaskier to accompany him. It’s infuriating and insulting. Since Jaskier has revealed his true nature, Geralt has witnessed first hand how self-sufficient and strong Jaskier could be. But the bloody idiot doesn’t want to risk Jaskier getting hurt. Asshole. 

So Jaskier has been half-heartedly playing in Sodden, praying that a certain witcher would tromp into the tavern at any moment. Casting around at the disinterested faces around him, Jaskier swallows nervously. He has spent too long in the same place and the patrons were growing sick of him, leaving his coin purse feeling lighter than he preferred. But this is where they decided to meet so Jaskier refuses to leave. 

He is in the middle of debuting a new song about a man who is underestimated by his lover (certainly not inspired by recent events) when the door creaks open and two cloaked figures shuffle through. Jaskier hits an off note in his shock and relief. Geralt. Thank the gods. Jaskier rushes through the rest of the song before collecting his meager coin and hurrying over to the pair now huddled in the corner. 

“Geralt,” he breathes, eagerly drinking up his love’s expression, unreadable as it is. A hint of apprehension trickles through Jasker when Geralt makes no move towards him. But before it has time to grow he is enveloped in the witcher’s steady arms and earthy scent as Geralt releases a muffled whine into his neck. Jaskier eagerly returns the hug with relief and greedily breathes in his mate, as all at once the flood of tension and worry that had built up over the past few weeks drains away. 

Jaskier hums as Geralt nuzzles the side of his neck, discreetly scenting him as he is wont to do when seeking comfort. This is the longest they’ve been apart since they confessed their feelings for each other. Add on to that the stress of the journey with an entire army on his heels and Jaskier’s absence must have hit the witcher hard. _Serves the bastard right for leaving me behind,_ the petty part of himself thinks. 

He doesn’t want to release his mate for another few hours after so long apart but after a prolonged moment, longer than the witcher is usually comfortable with when somewhere public, Geralt pulls away. Jaskier can’t help but release a bereft whine before recovering his composure and turning to the child pressed against Geralt like a duckling to its mother. Right. Introductions are in order. 

Studying the cowering figure before him, Jaskier's heart aches. The girl looks nothing like a princess, skin pale and sallow and eyes dull and haunted. Dark shadows under her eyes speak a tale of restless and sleepless nights. Poor girl. 

Word of the fall of Cintra and the hunt for the missing princess had travelled fast, which hadn’t helped Jaskier’s terror over Geralt’s wellbeing. Clearly Cirilla hadn’t escaped unscathed, though her wounds may not be of the physical kind. Well, if there's one thing Jaskier specializes in other than singing and playing, it's tending to scarred and lonely individuals.

“And who might you be my love?” Jaskier asks with a kind smile. 

Nervous eyes flick towards Geralt before a tentative voice whispers, “Fiona.” 

Smiling approvingly at the pseudonym Jaskier bows. “It is an honor to meet you Fiona,” he murmurs. “I am Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, but my friends call me Jaskier.” Brushing an unruly lock of hair back from Geralt’s face he fusses, “You must be weary from your travels.” Clasping Cirilla’s hand he chirps with a wink, “Come, I have a room that coincidentally has an extra bed.” 

*******

In the relative safety and privacy of his rooms, Jaskier observes the two travel companions relax minutely. Gods know what stress they had been under and what they have faced these past weeks. Jaskier is sure he will get the story out of them, though it will be one ballad that will have to stay unwritten. 

Moving towards Geralt, Jaskier falls into a nearly meditative state as he slowly begins removing the witcher’s armor. How he missed this simple routine. As he strips the witcher of each layer Jaskier brushes his hands along the newly exposed skin, assessing for new wounds or scars. Jaskier smiles softly at the slight tremble he can feel from Geralt under his ministrations. Clearly he wasn’t the only one who longed for this ritual, this touch. 

Finally divested of everything but a loose tunic and breeches, Geralt draws Jaskier into his arms once again, this time claiming his lips in a tender kiss. Jaskier sinks into the embrace with a contented sigh, forcing himself not to allow the kiss to grow too heated as much as he wishes to. Even so, Jaskier can't help the teasing bite of Geralt's lips as he rakes a hand through the witcher's hair. Hmm, the man needs a wash. The girl undoubtedly does as well. 

As they both pull begrudgingly apart, knowing they'll get carried away otherwise, both men turn to see Cirilla watching them with a contemplative expression, feet swinging from where she is sitting on the bed.“Geralt said we were going to meet with a friend but he didn’t say you were _that_ kinda friend,” the girl smirks. Oh and what a sweet smile she has. Jaskier clearly needs to make it his new life’s goal to make her smile and laugh as much as possible. 

Gasping exaggeratedly, Jaskier smacks Geralt’s chest. “Geralt! Am I your dirty secret?” He demands. 

“You’re too loud to be anyone’s secret,” Geralt deadpans, lips twitching. 

Sighing, Jaskier turns to the princess who is wearing a full-fledged grin at this point, propping his hands onto his hips. “Melitele knows how you handled weeks with such a brute Cirilla,” Jaskier bemoans with a shake of his head. 

Another furtive glance to Geralt. “It’s Ciri actually. When I’m not Fiona.” 

“Ciri,” Jaskier says warmly. “A perfect name for a perfect young lady.” 

“You haven’t seen her cheat at knucklebones yet. See how perfect you think she is then,” Geralt grumbles, moving to sort their packs for the night.

“Anyone who manages to best the man who cheats at Gwent like his life depends on it is perfect in my book,” Jaskier winks, delighting at the giggle he gets in response. Gods but this girl has gone through hell and back and yet she still is open to laughter and joy. What a bloody gift. Jaskier is gonna protect her until his dying days. 

Later that night with Geralt and Ciri washed and the princess sleeping fitfully across the room, Jaskier twines himself around the witcher until there is no space between them. “Gods, I was so worried about you,” Jaskier sighs into his shoulder, stroking down Geralt’s chest. 

“Hmm,” Geralt replies, which in witcher speak means, “How I missed you too my bard, my love.” You know, with only a tiny bit of poetic license on Jaskier’s part. 

As thick fingers begin carding through Jaskier’s hair the bard peers up. He knows with their time apart Geralt wouldn’t have been able to indulge in one of his favorite pastimes. “Does she know about me?” he inquires. At Geralt’s shake of the head Jaskier hums. “Well, we can explain it to her when she wakes.” 

And with that Jaskier shifts, curling onto Geralt’s chest with a contented sigh. When Geralt releases a soft sigh of his own, Jaskier smiles to himself. It never fails to please the shifter how much the witcher adores him in his wolf form. Marya raised him, wisely, not to reveal his nature to anyone. Jaskier lived his life thinking if he ever found someone to love that he would never be able to show them his full self. 

He never could have dreamed of loving someone who knew about and loved both of his forms. But if anyone can, it naturally would be a touch-starved witcher with a heart as big as the Continent. Jaskier rumbles happily as Geralt begins stroking through his thick fur, and, feeling whole for the first time in weeks, he slips off to sleep. 

*******

The moon is still high in the sky when Jaskier is woken by whimpers. Ears pricking up, he turns to see Ciri thrashing in her bed, crying out. “This happens every night,” a raspy voice mumbles in his ear. 

Oh, the poor creature. 

Considering his options, Jaskier follows his instincts. Stretching, he pads over to the opposite bed, climbing in to curl beside the tormented pup. Ciri jolts awake and gasps as she finds herself face to face with a wolf. “It’s okay,” Geralt murmurs, coming up from behind the bard. “Jaskier is a shifter.” Stroking a hand through the wolf Geralt smiles softly down at the wolf. “Makes a good cuddle partner.” 

As sleep-fogged eyes stare at him, Jaskier reaches forward to lick Ciri’s face, whining softly at the taste of salt he comes away with. A watery smile spreads tentatively across the girl’s face, culminating into an outright giggle as Jaskier nudges at the crook of her throat and snuffles in her ear, wiggling to get closer. 

Ciri and Jaskier turn when a throat clears near the bed. “Would you-” Geralt looms over the pair with a guarded expression, which swiftly melts away when Ciri offers him a hopeful grin and pats beside her. Jaskier grins softly to himself. Knowing the protective streak of the witcher, it no doubt tormented him witnessing the girl’s distress while being helpless to stop it. As Geralt wraps Ciri to his side, Jaskier squirms until he is sprawled over the witcher, his head upon Ciri’s heart. Jaskier releases a vibrating rumble as two pairs of hands begin carding through his fur.

_Pack pack pack_ a deep, primitive part of himself chants, causing him to rumble louder. Part of him feels like he should panic over how quickly he has attached himself to the princess, but considering he was drawn to a strange man in the corner of a shitty tavern in Posada and that turned out well for him, Jaskier decides not to worry. 

Soon, Geralt and Ciri drop off to sleep while Jaskier watches over his pack. Neither of them wakes for the rest of the night. 

*******

Geralt, Jaskier, and Ciri have been traveling together for a week or so as they made their way to meet up with Yennefer in Temeria. Jaskier is a bit apprehensive since this will be the first time they will be seeing the sorceress since the dragon hunt. 

When Geralt first announced they were meeting up with Yennefer, Jaskier sat them down for an awkward conversation about the status of their relationship. To Jaskier's surprise, the witcher gruffly expressed his devotion to Jaskier, only a hint of bitterness tinging his words as he insisted that he and Yennefer were done. With Ciri’s magic and the Djinn wish, they will always be tied together, he explained, but any romantic entanglements would just lead to disaster. 

Despite Geralt’s reassurance, as they’ve grown closer to their meeting spot Jaskier has been shifting more and more frequently and for longer durations, which he knows is beginning to worry the witcher. It’s so hard to explain but Jaskier’s emotions are less...messy in this form. He has an easier time focusing on more baser instincts and needs rather than his anxieties and future uncertainties. 

Jaskier is trotting beside Roach, testing to see if she’ll dump Geralt if he nips at her heels to the amusement of Ciri and the irritation of Geralt and Roach when a portal opens. Immediately, the witcher dismounts and shields Jaskier from the purple eyed sorceress who strolls through. Who knows what she would do to a wild animal too close to the lost princess of Cintra? 

An assessing gaze lingers on each member of the party before she rolls her eyes at Geralt’s protective stance. “Stand down witcher, I won’t be hurting your little bard,” Yennefer sighs. 

Geralt and Jaskier stare at her with matching looks of astonishment, which is saying something considering one of them is currently a wolf. “How did you know it is him?” Geralt asks, relaxing his stance. 

Walking over to Ciri, Yennefer huffs, “I’m a bloody sorceress Geralt. Need I remind you that we met when you begged me to heal him? I would be shunned from the Brotherhood if I couldn’t sniff a simple shifter out on my own, especially when healing one." While Geralt and Jaskier process the fact that Yennefer has known Jaskier's true nature for years and just didn't care to mention it, the sorceress reaches Ciri. 

“Hello dear,” she adds, tilting Ciri’s chin to look up at her. “Apologies I left you alone with these two dolts for so long.” Turning to shoot Geralt an unimpressed glance Yennefer sniffs, “It doesn’t bode well for you or the sake of the Continent that the great White Wolf couldn’t catch all of the signs that he was traveling with a monster for years.” 

Jaskier snags Geralt by his tunic as the witcher goes to launch himself at Yennefer. As much as part of Jaskier crows at the idea of Geralt attacking the witch to defend his honor, the more reasonable part of him knows that Yennefer could turn the witcher into a pretzel using her pinky finger and he rather likes his mate the way he is, thank you. 

Though they both know Geralt could break from Jaskier’s hold, the witcher allows himself to be restrained, growling at the sorceress from a distance. Yennefer just watches on with an unimpressed look. “Down boy. Heel,” she utters dryly before turning her back to the duo. Sweeping an arm around the princess Yennefer remarks, “Come my dear. Let’s see what you’re made of.” 

As the two women walk ahead, Geralt and Jaskier linger behind. “You’re not a monster,” Geralt seethes, prompting Jaskier to jump on Geralt so he can lick all over his face. Jaskier can’t help himself; if he didn't do so Jaskier fears he’ll explode from the love he holds for this man. Huffing with amusement at the sputtering that ensues, Jaskier nudges Geralt’s hand with a happy tail wag, determined to wipe the scowl from his face that had been in place since Yennefer arrived.

Jaskier releases a satisfied rumble when Geralt kneels on the ground to bury his head in Jaskier’s coat. Nuzzling the witcher’s neck, Jaskier breathes in the cedar and earth scent that is all Geralt. A possessive warmth curls in Jaskier’s chest when he realizes that Geralt is scenting him in return, those hands that could break a man’s neck now stroking through Jaskier’s fur. “Can you shift back?” Geralt mumbles into Jaskier’s neck. “Need to get out of my head.” 

Gods above, what has Jaskier done to deserve this man? 

Licking the witcher once more, Jaskier trots over to Roach to pull down his pack while Geralt crowds around him to shield his nudity. The first time Jaskier shifted in plain daylight, Geralt nearly had an aneurysm. “Have you no shame?” he had growled, the heat in Geralt’s gaze belying the exasperation in his tone. 

Jaskier had simply shrugged. Modesty and self-consciousness isn’t really a thing when you’re part wolf. Since then Jaskier endures Geralt’s human shield as a compromise: Geralt feels like he’s protecting the remaining scraps of the shifter’s dignity and Jaskier gets to have his wolf nice and close to ogle him. If Jaskier has his way, which he usually does, the actual act of putting on clothes subsequently gets delayed by an hour or so. But not today unfortunately.

Once Jaskier is finished hopping on his final boot, Geralt mounts Roach, handing down the bard’s lute as he settles in. Brushing his fingers along the strings, Jaskier releases a satisfied sigh. As Roach continues on a brisk walk to catch up to the fading figures of Yennefer and Ciri, Jaskier strikes up a tune, filling the afternoon air with song and hopefully banishing whatever darkened thoughts are brushing against Geralt’s mind. 

*******

That night, Jaskier is wrapped around Ciri as he has done since that first time in the inn. Though it hasn’t fully chased away her nightmares, having something soft and cuddly to brush her hands through has helped keep Ciri calm and comforted when she does grow distressed. For now, the princess is sleeping soundly, thank the gods. While his eyes are closed though, Jaskier’s ears are pricked up, following every word of the conversation by the fire. 

“I can’t believe you let that mangy beast touch the princess,” a scornful voice sneers. 

“Call him beast one more time and none of our shared history will stop me from cutting you apart.” Jaskier shivers at the dark intent in Geralt’s voice. Fuck, he’s not joking.

A silence descends upon the campsite, nothing but the crackle of the fire and Ciri’s heavy breathing filling the night. Tension is thick in the air, making Jaskier want to squirm with unease. After an agonizing moment Yennefer speaks again, all of the derision making way for quiet contemplation. “You truly care for the bard.” An observation, not a question. 

“Hmm.” Leave it to Geralt to go from dishing out threats to retreating back to monosyllabic answers in the span of one minute.

“I’d say you have shit taste in bedmates but we were together for quite some time. So you must just be lacking a brain cell since we last parted.” 

“We can’t go back to what we were before Yen.” Jaskier’s heart stutters at the hint of regret in Geralt’s voice. Fuck. The last thing he wants is for the witcher to feel like he has to choose between them.

“Is that some hesitance I sense in your voice witcher?” Yennefer’s tone is unreadable. Gods she’s as good as Geralt. No doubt her face would be blank as well if Jaskier could see her. 

Geralt hums. “I won’t lie and say I don’t still feel a fondness for you,” Geralt rumbles. Oh gods here it comes. “But you and I both know it would only end in pain and we both deserve better.”

Oh. Jaskier’s fur stands on end as he senses a pair of eyes gazing straight at him. “You will always have a piece of me but he holds my heart.” 

Silence. Jaskier wonders distantly if the sound of his pounding heart can be heard from across the fire. Because here's the thing. Geralt isn’t good at words. This is something Jaskier has accepted long ago and even grown a bit fond of. The witcher shows his love everyday, Jaskier knows, with each action he takes. 

In short, hearing such a proclamation of love from him is as rare as snow in summer. Saying such words in front of the sorceress no less just makes Jaskier want to jump him and hide away for a week, showering Geralt with all the love he can express. Gods Jaskier is really gone for him. Seems like he’s in good company though. 

“Love makes you weak.” The venom in Yennefer’s voice when she finally speaks is undermined by the slight tremble of her words. 

“Not with him.” Fuck. Jaskier has never heard Geralt sound so confident, so sure of himself when not listing off a monster’s characteristics and weaknesses or a potion’s properties. His heart aches from the tenderness he’s feeling for his mate and Jaskier’s jaw throbs from how hard he’s clenching down on it to prevent him from howling his jubilation. 

A moment later Jaskier jolts as hands stroke through his fur and a warm body presses against him. Jaskier blinks helplessly into warm golden eyes. “You’re terrible at feigning sleep,” the witcher rumbles with a twitch of his lips. Still reeling from everything he heard, Jaskier begins licking Geralt’s face gently, snuffling at his neck with a plaintive whine, trying to express even a fraction of his adoration for this man. 

“I love you too, Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles into fur. And though Jaskier can sense a pair of curious violet eyes staring at him, wrapped up in his mate in his pup, Jaskier slips happily off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :-)  
> Any other prompts/requests for this series? Hit me up in the comments!


End file.
